


i hope somehow i'll wake up young again

by wordswithdragons



Series: sometimes a family is [1]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Ezran centric, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, POV Ezran (The Dragon Prince), POV Soren (The Dragon Prince), Soren centric, everyone needs to adopt each other and be found family STAT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:22:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23491621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordswithdragons/pseuds/wordswithdragons
Summary: Soren is the "best crownguard," ten years in the making.
Relationships: Callum & Ezran (The Dragon Prince), Ezran & Soren (The Dragon Prince)
Series: sometimes a family is [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1690177
Comments: 11
Kudos: 121





	i hope somehow i'll wake up young again

_i._

When Soren is eight, Ezran is born.

Queen Sarai's voice is kind as she beckons him over. "Soren—come here." Callum still standing on tiptoe by her bedside. King Harrow stands beside her, beaming with pride, and Soren watches his father rest a hand on the king's shoulder. Soren is decently taller than the dark haired pipsqueak beside him, Callum's chin barely coming up to the bed covers, and Soren doesn't have to lean over to see the bundle of red the queen is holding in her arms. The baby is brown and red faced with just wisps of dark hair.

"This is Ezran," she explains. Their new son and Callum's little brother.

Dad had explained the queen would be having a baby yet. Soren hadn't cared to know the details, instead knocking his wooden sword against one of the courtyard trees while Claudia examined ants on the ground. But somehow his brain hadn't quite made the connection between a big belly and an actual, _real live_ , tiny baby. He's never seen one before. It's... squishy looking.

Then Ezran's eyes open, a beautiful brilliant blue, and he gurgles and looks around, and Soren can kind of see what all the fuss is about.

"Now it's your job, boys," Sarai says, and Soren pays close attention, after one quick look at Callum across the bed. He's staring raptly at his mother too. "He needs to grow up big and strong, but both of you need to take care of him until he can, okay?"

It's Callum's duty as a brother, Soren thinks. Claudia may be skinny and boring now that she doesn't always want to play sword fighting with him, but he still knows it's a big brother's job to look out for their younger sibling. He didn't think he was getting another one. But he can't say no to the queen; he doesn't think he wants to anyway.

How hard can a promise like that be to keep, anyway?

_iii._

Ezran hears rather than sees the blade pierce through skin. Through blood, through organ. The staff drops. Ezran opens his eyes. He's—unexpectedly—alive. Viren staggers backwards, hands scrabbling at his chest. And between them stands Soren, who isn't Ezran's knight in shining armour, exactly—his cape is a little torn at the edges and his hands are shaking even as he holds his blade hilt steady—but he still just saved Ezran's life. And Ezran knows the exact pain of losing a father. Never mind one at your own hand. Because doesn't the choice make it worse, somehow?

Then Soren jerks back, eyes wide, as Viren drops just like his staff. As horrified as Claudia. Ezran has never seen someone die up close like that before. Have any of them? There's been injuries and close calls and images burned onto the back of eyelids—another one, now, to haunt him in the night, of Viren lying dead in the dusk, but—(Soren might have with the assassins, on the night that started all of this.)

Ezran manages to push himself up. Soren is on his knees as he lays a small hand on his armoured shoulder. They're almost the same height. "Why would he try and hurt me?" Ezran wonders. At all, let alone now. Viren was his godfather. His father's best friend. Soren and Claudia's dad. Ezran remembered Viren—not a warm man, maybe, but not a cruel one. And then he'd locked Ezran in jail and taken the crown and destroyed Lux Aurea.

"When it was so clear he couldn't win," Ezran says, grateful for this knowledge at least. "The battle is over."

Claudia's voice is as sharp as her eyes. "No. It isn't. All of this was just a distraction."

All of these lives, wasted, in what Ezran was treating as a war and Viren was treating like a game. The body on the ground fades. Soren snaps to attention. "Claudia, where is he?"

And Ezran does what he can do, and reaches out to Zym.

(Somewhere, somehow, this will all be enough.)

_vii._

Ezran may be king, but he still doesn't like thunder. Or storms, which is how he finds himself curled up in his father's old bedroom (his new bedroom, he reminds himself) in a too big bed in a too big room, lightning flashing outside the doors that lead out onto the balcony. Bait grunts and shifts closer to his stomach, a comforting and familiar warmth, but it's not enough. It just makes him think of what's not there, and that's Callum—gone is their childhood co-joined rooms and his brother's reassuring presence and words whenever Ezran woke with a start.

Now there's just rain and quiet and too much space. And Soren, outside his door.

The head crownguard doesn't get the night watch too often—Ez thinks that maybe it's because Soren doesn't like being alone with his thoughts for longer than he has to be, after everything he's lost—but he's glad it's Soren tonight, as he slips out of bed and pads across the cool stone floor to the door. Opens one side as Bait grunts beside him and Soren springs back in mild surprise.

"Is everything okay Ez?" he asks immediately.

Ezran nods. "Yeah." A yawn. "Jus'—wondering. Would you come in and... stay with me?" He used to climb into Callum's bed when he was little, too scared to sleep on his own; the only time Callum would ever let Bait and his drool into his bed. But his brother isn't here now. Just Soren.

Soren blinks, then bends down to place a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry, little man, but I think that'd defeat the point of me standing guard, wouldn't it?"

Darn. Ezran hadn't thought of that. "I guess so," he mumbles, and then a thought strikes him. "Wait. I'll be right back."

Soren is still standing, blinking owlishly when Ezran returns with his pillow and a heap of blankets in his arms. Bait gives Soren the stink-eye until he sits down against the door and Ezran drapes his pillow over one of Soren's thighs before curling up under the blankets stolen from his bed. The storm seems quieter out here in the hall, away from the balcony.

"You're sure you won't get cold?" says Soren, sounding unsure. Maybe about the whole situation.

Ez has to admit the jutting edges of Soren's armour, even under his pillow, isn't that comfortable, but he can already feel sleep tugging at his eyes. "I'll be okay," he yawns, and Soren leaves it at that.

It's easier to fall asleep with him there.

_ii._

When Callum turns eleven, he doesn't want to steal jelly tarts with Ezran anymore. The prince thinks part of it is the raccoon fiasco that happened a little while ago, but no amount of pouting will change Callum's mind, so Ez resigns himself to having Bait his only ("Best," he corrects) accomplice. Even if Callum was still small enough to fit in the vents, among Ezran's own tiny seven year old frame. The only trouble is that Bait isn't much of a lookout. The glow toad would much rather eat tarts than keep watch for Barius the baker, and isn't eating Ezran's job, too? Callum was always the lookout because he was tall. Now grabbing tarts from the high table is going to be sort of tricky too.

It's a real pickle, until Ezran thinks of the one other human being in the castle who loves jelly tarts almost as much as he does. Soren is just coming off crownguard training when Ezran tracks him down, crouching behind a corner. "Psst, Soren!"

At fifteen, the blond has just hit his growth spurt, whipping around and looking at things on his eye level before he thinks to look down, crouching once he does. "Oh, uh—" Soren lowers his voice. "Is there a reason we're whispering?"

Ezran rubs his hands together. "Secret jelly tart nabbing mission."

"Ah." Soren grins. "Step-prince got bored of being lookout?" Ez nods sagely. "Yeah, sounds like him. I'll help you be lookout. On one condition." Soren holds up a very serious finger. "I get 20% of the tarts."

Ezran can't really do math that well yet, but Bait grunts his approval, so Ezran nods. "Deal. We were gonna go nab them now."

Soren leans down further. "Want a lift?"

Ez grins. He's a bit too big for Callum to carry him like this now—maybe in a couple of years it'll even out—but he seizes Bait and then clambers onto Soren's shoulders. The crownguard-in-training makes sure he has a secure hold before running off. Bait clings to Soren's hair and Ezran laughs as the wind brushes his face.

He's extremely pleased even before he learns Soren is indeed an _excellent_ lookout (and usually willing to spare a few tarts from his 20% stash, too).

_viii._

Once they're back at the palace, Ezran insists on learning swordfighting. Opeli tries to talk him out of it—"You have a very capable crownguard, Your Majesty"—but Ez won't hear it, so every Saturday afternoon, he and Soren go out to the courtyards and slowly but surely, he gets a handle on the basics.

Ezran is easier to teach than Callum, Soren finds, or maybe he's just become a better teacher. He certainly doesn't get any enjoyment from knocking Ez into the dirt when the young king forgets to parry, although it doesn't happen often either. He knows the two princes used to a spar a bit when they were younger; maybe Callum was always better than Soren had given him credit for.

Still, Ez takes to swordfighting with a certain amount of dedication that makes him for his lack of skill, a sort of determination on his face Soren usually only sees when he's making kingly decisions.

"What's all that about?" Soren asks, when he sees the look on Ezran's face as they sit on the benches for a break.

Ezran pauses in sipping his juice. "What do you mean?"

"Y'know—" Soren sticks out his chin and turns his mouth down in an imitation that's a little goofy, because Ezran giggles. "The seriousness." He smooths his face back over to something thoughtful and pokes one of the king's squishy cheeks with his finger. "It's quite a look."

Ezran bats his hand away with a much smaller one, placing each tiny hands on his knees. "I have to be able to defend myself," he says.

Soren smirks. "What, you trying to put me out of a job or something?"

But Ezran doesn't smile back. His fingers curl into his pant-leg, clenching. "Dad was a really good fighter," Ezran says, swallowing. "But—and on the trip, Callum and Rayla had to do all the fighting. I could use Bait's flashing and ride Banthers or dragons but on my own, I'm just—"

"Hey." Soren is firm, almost stern, as he catches Ezran's shoulder with his hand and gives it a slight shake. "You're doing fine. I only started training seriously with a sword when I was your age, and so did your brother, so you're not behind at all. Bait's a good secret weapon up your sleeve, and most people will turn and run at the sight of a Banther, so we can just get one for your room or something."

Ezran's lips curl. "A Banther in my bedroom?"

The beast's back could probably brush the ceiling but Soren nods and crossed his arms over his chest, like it's decided. And it sort of is. If Ezran wants one, what can Opeli do, really, beyond maybe blame Soren for putting the idea in his head. "You're the king. And I am not going to let anything happen to you. I promise."

Ezran gives him a real smile this time. "Okay." Finishes his juice and sets the cup aside. "Let's try that move again. I think I can get it this time."

Soren grins after him as they step into the sparring ring, letting his larger sword rest on his shoulder as he looks down at the tiny kid. "And hey, if you disarm me," he offers, with all his height and strength, "then you can disarm just about anyone."

He'll make sure of it.

_v._

Ezran is missing a brother. Soren has lost a sister.

Neither of them talk about it.

It's not only that there are plenty of other things to talk about on the long road back to Katolis—Rayla and the Sunfire elves warned the human forces to take the long route around the Midnight Desert, even while the latter accompanies them en route back to Lux Aurea—but that there's a deadness in Ezran's chest that he cannot will away. He thought saying goodbye to his friends—to his family—once had been hard enough, nevermind a second time. At least this time, he thinks, there's peace. Zym is safe and back home, Rayla staying on as his protector to help form a new Dragonguard, while they wait for peace to catch up with the rest of the world.

He couldn't make Callum keep his promise. _You don't have to come home_ , he'd said, and his older brother's eyes had shone with sadness and hope that Callum hadn't been able to hide, even if Ezran could see him trying.

_Really?_

He could stay in Xadia and learn magic from Ibis. Ez thinks of how Callum tried to take his place. How Callum has always been there until a week ago. Isn't it time for Ez to make a sacrifice _for_ him? And who knows when an opportunity like this is going to come along again. That, and if humans can connect to primal sources—if Callum can grow as a mage enough to teach others—then maybe they can be done with dark magic for good. Callum is one part of their future.

So Ezran lets him stay, for a variety of reasons—for a magical future, which is for the kingdom; for Rayla, because he doesn't think she and Callum know how to be without each other now, and Ez loves her like a sister—but mostly because he loves his brother and he wants him to be happy. Even if they'll miss each other and it hurts. Isn't deciding what sort of pain is worth it part of growing up?

The castle is strange without them. Ezran can see the places all four of them used to play hide and seek, or sneak in to raid the bakery. There's the bench by the apple tree in one of the courtyards Claudia would read under and sometimes Ezran would climb into her lap and she'd read aloud. There's one of the smaller breakfast tables Soren and Callum would grab breakfast at when training had to happen earlier in the autumn. There's empty chairs and unfilled spaces now, washed over in honey hued memories or the creeping cold of half wanting to forget.

Him and Soren go down to see Barius together and grab breakfast in the mornings before Ez has to deal with kingly duties and Soren sets about establishing a new crownguard. They talk about how to reform the Katolis military. Ezran takes some of Soren's suggestions into account when writing his letters to other kingdoms, even if he vetoes the haikus. Ezran helps him clean out Claudia's room alongside a few of the other servants they've known since they were boys, and shuffle things along to Viren's old quarters. Clean out the dungeons where the dragon egg was found. At every corner, in some ways, it feels like childhood is over.

Except... Soren still gives him piggy back rides. And makes faces mimicking the crowlord when he's reading out messages and Soren is standing behind him, and Ez has to fight off giggles. They still 'steal' tarts from Barius even if the old baker is more in on it than ever, but he thinks it's amusing for him too. Soren stands on the king's balcony and whistles about the view, and then teaches Ez how to whistle period. Soren ruffles his hair and gets along with Corvus and Opeli and they both make faces when it comes to eating their vegetables. Soren never lets him go too long without laughing. And whenever Ezran finds Soren with tears in his eyes, he simply wraps his arms around the crownguard's middle and holds him as best as his tiny frame will allow, because sometimes a good hug is all you can give (and all the other person needs).

Slowly, they make an old castle a new home, together.

"Do you miss them?" Ezran asks one night as Soren carries him to bed. He'd been almost falling asleep on his throne, overlooking some maps, before Soren had forced him to call it quits.

Soren shifts, adjusting his hold on him. Ezran's little arms loop loosely around his neck, Bait cocooned between their chests. "Of course I do," he says quietly.

Ezran can sense the unsaid _but_ , and presses it. "But?"

"But I got you," Soren says and draws away a bit to smile at him. "And you got me. So we're okay."

Warmth grows in Ezran's chest, like flowers in early spring. Like new life after a long winter. "Yeah." He's never been a little brother to two people before, but he's sure he can figure it out. "We are."

_vi._

Sometimes, once they get back to Katolis, Ezran lays on the grass in the main courtyard and counts clouds. It's a far more peaceful process than it was once upon a time, worry in his mind and the crown in his hand. Now he wears it properly, Bait a warm weight on his stomach, and enjoying a nice break in between meetings about diplomacy and kingdom budgeting and trying to heal the rift between Neolandia and Duren.

Sometimes, Soren will sit and join him, and count the clouds out loud.

It means more to Ezran than he can say.

_iv._

The first time Callum really looks him in the eye is when it's time to go. The troops have buried the dead and healed enough to move, the Spire now emptied of soldiers. Rayla is still saying goodbye to Ezran, their hug tight. It will be Callum's turn next. Duren's army and a bit of Katolis, and the prisoners overseen by Amaya, are being brought alongside the remaining forces of Lux Aurea as they travel back to the Breach together, dropping off the elves as they go. A lot has happened in the past few days. A lot has happened in the last month, if Soren has been perfectly honest.

But at least one thing hasn't, and Soren thinks he should have known it'd be Callum's love for his baby brother. Remembers the way Callum had cried and hugged Ezran safe in his arms upon first seeing him after the battle, closer to the base of the Spire, before the battlefield had been overseen and they'd separated again. Before they had to separate again now. And Soren remembers catching Callum's eye, as each story was solemnly told—Viren and his staff and what Soren had done, what he'd been prepared to do, and Callum and Rayla and the cliff—the boy just mouthing _Thank you_.

Callum is stern rather than grateful now.

"I am _trusting_ you," he says, more seriously than Soren knew he was capable of (maybe he's grown up too), "to keep him _safe_."

Soren knows what it means, the full weight of it as sure as the weight of his sword in his hand. "I know," he says. Callum's lip twitch in a half smile and he offers up an awkward handshake that Soren accepts, before he strides off to go hug his brother.

Soren waits with Ezran as the troops leave, and the boy king lingers, looking back at the Spire where Callum and Rayla still are, too small and already out of sight. Soren places a hand on his shoulder. "Are you ready?" he asks gently and Ezran looks back at him.

"Yeah," he says. "I think I am."

Soren lets them walk in a somber silence for a few minutes before he starts nudging at Ezran, elbows and questions and smiles, asking about Xadian flora and fauna and butterflies, and Ezran perks up as he answers, chatting excitedly. Bait even chimes in a few times, held in the boy's arms, and Soren smiles and listens.

He's being given a second chance at being a big brother; he's not going to waste it.

_(ix._

When Ezran is taking his first steps, Soren is learning how to use a sword. When Ezran struggles with 'n' sounds, even in his own name, Callum deems him Ez, and Soren gets co-opted by Claudia for the toddler's use. "You can call him Sor-bear too," she offers and Ezran does until he turns four. When Callum is still too small to give Ez piggy back rides, Soren plays the noble steed for both the boys and for energetic, kinetic Ezran a little longer.

When Ezran is ten, Soren is told to kill him. He doesn't.

When Ezran is ten, he is crowned king, twice, and Soren is eighteen. The second time Soren is there to see it, to stand by his side. There's nowhere else he would rather be.)


End file.
